


The Short Trip

by Spooky66



Series: Prompts [15]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, high scully, pot, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 16:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky66/pseuds/Spooky66
Summary: 75. “Why is THIS in your fridge? This is some serious contraband.”





	

Scully was bent over the toilet for what felt like the tenth time this morning. She’d all but lived in the bathroom the past week and it was excruciating for me to watch. I’d been staying with her in her apartment since they made her treatment more aggressive. At first she refused, kept trying to get me to leave, but eventually she grew too weak to keep kicking me out.

Even though she was allowing me to stay, she refused to let me help her when she was vomiting. I understood why, but it killed me to stand outside the bathroom door when she was in there suffering and so damn sick.

Three days into my stay I was fighting back tears as I sat in the hallway, hearing her expel barely half a bowl of soup she hadn’t been able to keep down. It wasn’t just her stomach making her miserable. She wasn’t sleeping well at night, and her headaches and nosebleeds were only getting worse.

Now her retching is followed by crying and I can’t handle being outside the door anymore. Knocking twice, ignoring her protests, I hold back her hair as she dry heaves. When she’s through, starts shivering I wrap my arms around her, murmur words of comfort in her ear. Silently promise myself I’ll never let her do this alone again. 

She starts crying and I pull her off the bathroom floor into my lap. Hold her tiny, too thin body close as she sobs, hides her face in my shoulder. 

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Mulder,” she chokes out. “What’s the point? I’m only lengthening my life by a few months. I can’t handle being this sick for whatever time I’ve got left.”

Her body shakes as she speaks and ice fills my veins at her words. Stroking her sweaty, thinning hair I brush my lips on the top of her head. 

“You can’t give up, Scully. You can’t give up yet. Just wait to see if the treatment is helping. It hasn’t been long enough yet to tell,” I plead, rubbing her upper back and holding her as close as I can without crushing her. 

“It has been long enough, Mulder. My doctor told me the tumor is still the same size.”  
She looks up at me with a blotchy, tear stained face, watery eyes that look even bluer than usual.

“I need you to adjust to the fact that I’m going to die. I need you to do that.”

She moves her hand to my cheek and I nearly shiver at how cold it is. I cover her hand with my own, try not to pay attention to the tears stinging my eyes.  
“I can’t do that, Scully. I can’t accept that you’re-”

“You have to, or this is going to be even more difficult. If you accept it, we can just enjoy what time I have left.” 

I can’t bring myself to respond and shake my head, help her to her feet. I leave her to brush her teeth and power on the electric blanket on her bed before turning it down. When she has a bad spell like the one she just had, she tends to drift off as soon as her head hits the pillow. 

She emerges from the bathroom looking pale and drained, slowly crosses the room to the bed. Seeing how I’d prepared everything for her she gives me a small smile.

“Thank you, Mulder.” 

She lies down and I tuck the blankets around her body, keep fretting over her until she shoos my hands away. 

“Is there anything else you need?” 

She shakes her head and I press a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping out, shutting the door quietly behind me.

As she sleeps I do some light cleaning before my stomach starts to growl. I open the fridge, look for something to eat and spot a brown paper bag neatly tucked away in the back corner.

Curiosity takes over and I reach to the back of the shelf, grab the bag and unfold it. Seeing the contents I nearly drop it, thankfully catch myself before I do. 

“Holy shit…”   
Shaking my head I fight the urge to laugh.

“Oh Scully, Scully, Scully…”

Setting the bag on the kitchen counter I lift out the yellow glass pipe, the small baggie of weed underneath it. Looking towards the bedroom I feel dumbfounded. Scully’s been keeping this pot squirreled away all this time. To my knowledge though she hasn’t been using it.

Opening the plastic bag I inhale the distinct scent and am sent straight back to my dorm at Oxford. The soccer games and outdoor concerts where we’d pass a joint around for kicks.

 

This pot though was not for kicks. If I knew Scully the only reason she had it on hand was to help relieve her suffering. The thought of that, her eating a real meal and being able to enjoy it. Her actually smiling again. For the first time in weeks I find myself smiling, too. 

While considering all this I don’t hear Scully leave her room and walk in the kitchen. 

“Mulder?” she questions. Seeing the grin on my face she frowns, for good reason, and I step aside, gesture to the pot paraphernalia on her kitchen table.

“Why was THIS in your fridge? Agent Scully, this is some serious contraband,” I say, barely holding back a laugh. 

“Oh my God,” she says, covering her mouth with her hands. She looks completely horrified and it just makes me smile more.

“I completely forgot about that.”

“You’re sure you’re not just holding out on me?” I tease as she lowers her hand and shakes her head.

“No. Charlie sent that to me a couple of weeks ago. I was going to throw it out.”

“Why didn’t you?” I ask as she shrugs, takes a seat at the table. Reaching for the pipe she traces her finger along the rim of the bowl. 

“I don’t know. I wondered if I’d want it if things got bad enough.” 

Nodding in understanding I pull out a chair. Take a seat across from her and pick up the baggie, zip the seal. 

“You know, you’re not supposed to store this in the fridge. It makes it less fresh.” 

“Well I’m sorry I’m not an expert on illicit drugs like you, Mulder.” she smirks.

“Why haven’t you used this?” I ask. “You’re a doctor, you know the medicinal properties. It could help you, Scully.”

“Because it’s illegal! And I’d rather not get in trouble.”

“What, you think Skinner is going to march in here and make you take a drug test?”

“I didn’t mean with the Bureau. What about the cops?”

“You really think they’d do anything besides let you off with a warning? C’mon, Scully. They’re not going to arrest a woman with terminal cancer for smoking a little pot.”

“You know that they could. What if my neighbors smell it?”

“You put a towel down at the base of the door. It’s dorm room 101.”

She rolls her eyes at me but says nothing, looks down at the pipe she’s still holding.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

Shrugging her narrow shoulders she lets out a sigh.

“Better now that I’ve slept a little. My headache woke me up though.” 

Clenching my jaw I stand up, help her to her feet. 

“C’mon, Scully. It’s 4:20 someplace.”

“Mulder, I’m fine! It’s not that bad.” 

“You need some relief here! And if smoking a little weed is going to give it to you-”

As if on cue her nose starts bleeding and I quickly hand her a napkin, then go grab a towel from the linen closet. 

Pinching the bridge of her nose Scully rolls her eyes watching me stuff the towel under the front door. 

“This is ridiculous, Mulder.”

“No it’s not, Scully. And I know you know that because you’ve read up on everything remotely relating to cancer in every medical journal you own, and if you missed the medical marijuana section, don’t worry. I didn’t.”

Met with an eyeroll as she throws the tissue out, rubs her temples I soften slightly. Guilt washing over me for getting snarky.

“Scully, you and I both know it offers chemo patients significant relief from their symptoms. I’m tired of watching you suffer like this. Just think, if we get some pot in you maybe you’ll get your appetite back. Be able to keep something down for a while.” 

 

She shakes her head stubbornly and my jaw clenches again. Unfortunately for her I can get just as pigheaded as she can. 

“If you won’t do this for yourself then will you please do it for me? I can’t take watching you in agony like this, Scully. I’m begging you to try this and see if it helps. If you wind up hating it or if you think it’s useless, you won’t have to do it again.” 

She sighs and folds her arms, looks down at her feet. The sound of her stomach growling fills the silence and that’s the last straw for me. Gently I take her by the arm, steer her towards the couch. 

“Just sit here and relax. I’ll get everything set up.” 

She doesn’t try to fight me and I take it as a good and a bad sign. 

I heat up some of her mom’s soup for her on the stove, then grab a lighter from the drawer and the pipe and baggie from the kitchen table. Carrying everything to the living room I see her feet up on the coffee table, her head leaned back against the couch. 

I set the items by her feet on the table, sit next to her and start stuffing some weed into the pipe. Glancing up at her I see her watching me with hooded eyes.

“So have you ever smoked before?” I ask after the pipe is prepared.

“Yeah. In college, a few times during med school, too,” she says shyly.

“Well, time to go back to a simpler time when you weren’t worried about government conspiracies so much as passing your finals.” 

I look up again and she tries to hide the small smile that flickers across her face.

“Remember how to start?” 

Her eyebrows knit together and she shakes her head as I hand her the pipe and lighter. 

“Cover this hole here,” I coach, positioning her fingers, “Then light up. Keep the flame going as you inhale until you can see the weed’s burning.”

“Alright.”

“Inhale as much as you can, then pull the pipe away from your mouth before you exhale.” 

 

She looks skeptically at the pipe in her hand, “Mulder this is ridiculous.”  
Despite her protests she opts to follow my instructions and puts her lips around the pipe, lights up the weed. She takes a big breath in, then pulls the pipe away when she starts coughing. Quickly I take it from her as she coughs out the smoke. Her eyes are watering and she gives me an accusing look, coughs some more.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I forgot about the burning,” she says after a few breaths as I reach over, rub her back.

“It’s alright. You won’t notice it after a few more hits,” I say knowingly as she shakes her head.

“I don’t think I want anymore, Mulder.” 

“C’mon, Scully. Just try it a few more times.” 

She lets out a sigh, reluctantly takes the pipe from me, “Fine. Whatever. But you’re joining in, too.” 

“Someone has to be coherent here, Scully,” I say with a frown as she scoffs, gives me a look.

“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of watching me high while you’re sober, Mulder. Either you get in on this with me or I’m done.”

“Fine, fine,” I grumble. “You take another hit then hand it over.”

She does, and I’m pleased to see she’s starting to catch on. When she pulls the pipe away I notice her pupils are dilated and can’t help but smile. She hands me back the yellow pipe and I look at it for a moment, shake my head before taking a hit. 

It burns my throat, makes my eyes well up but the flavor sends me back a decade and I know this is all gonna be worth it. The goofy grin on Scully’s face is reason alone to get a little baked. I pass the pipe back to her with a cough, watch as she takes in a surprisingly big breath. 

“Geez, Scully. Pace yourself.” 

She pulls away giggling, starts playing keep away with the pipe when I try to take it back and I start laughing, fight the urge to start crying. She’s laughing for the first time in months. She’s happy. Scully’s happy. 

Before I turn into a basketcase watching her I go over to the kitchen to get her soup before I get too stoned to remember.

 

I bring her a bowl and spoon, praying she can keep the chicken noodle down and for the first time in weeks she doesn’t go green at the sight of a meal. Before I know it the bowl is empty and she’s reaching for the pipe again, leaning back against the couch cushions before taking a long hit, handing it over. I start telling her stories. Crazy ones from when I was a kid that I haven’t even told Frohike and the boys. She’s a captive audience until she starts giggling over a stupid joke I tell her and can’t make herself stop. 

I start laughing along with her, laughing so much my stomach aches and I flop back on the couch to try and catch my breath. Scully collapses in turn, still in a full blown giggle fit and I feel her tiny body shake with laughter against mine. If I didn’t already love her I’d fall hard and fast for that laugh.

She settles down some and curls up alongside me, hides her face in the crook of my neck. The steady warmth of her breath, the way her body fits and feels so perfect tucked against mine. I’m relaxed because of the weed, but increasingly aroused because of her and I shift slightly, try and sit up against the arm of the couch. 

“How you feeling, Scully?” 

“Good. I...I feel really good. I forgot how it felt to feel this good,” she says wistfully, sitting up in turn before her eyes travel from me to the kitchen.

“God, I’m starving. Aren’t you starving?”

“A little but let’s focus on you here, okay. You want more soup? I can go and heat some up.”

“No. No soup. Let’s order a pizza!”

“Pizza?”

“No wait, Chinese! I want Chinese food. And ice cream!” Scully exclaims, now kneeling on the couch and lightly bouncing in excitement. “Can you run out and pick me up ice cream? Please, Mulder?!”

“Scully…”

“C’mon, this is the first time in weeks I actually want to eat something!” she whines, giving me a pouty look that brings me to my knees.

“I know, trust me, I know,” I laugh, reaching over to cup her cheek in my palm.

“But you’re gonna want to take it easy for now, Scully,” I say as she pouts more, pushes my hand away from her face. I have to hold back a laugh at the adorable pout on her face.

“I mean it. All you’ve eaten for weeks now is soup. You go wolfing down all that rich food, you’ll regret it later if you go overboard.”

The cute, pouty look on her face turns sad and she lets out a soft sigh, sits back on her heels.

“Oh, Scully… You’re a doctor you know I’m right.” Reaching over I tilt her chin up. Look in her clouded over eyes that are all but begging me to enable her. Lucky for her I’m a sucker for those eyes.

“Look, I think I may have seen some cookies stashed in the back of the pantry if you-”

Immediately she grins, thanks me before starting that bouncing thing on the couch again as I stand up.

“We’ll work our way up to the hard stuff next time. Just the cookies tonight though, alright?” I say, earning a salute and a “yes, sir” in return.

“That’s cute. God, that’s cute.”

I head over to the kitchen only to trip over my own feet and nearly fall flat on my ass. A graceful move that amuses Scully to no end as she bursts out laughing again, flops back into the couch cushions.

After I get the cookies from the pantry, avoid stumbling again, I sit on the couch next to Scully who’s face is flushed and red from laughing. I set the bag of cookies on the coffee table and she throws her arms up around my neck, kisses me on the cheek.

“You’re the best, Mulder. You brought me cookies and that makes you the best,” she coos, still clutching onto me. As amazing as it feels though I’m keenly aware she’s braless under her pajama top and swallow hard, gently guide her back to her end of the couch. She gives me a bewildered pout until I hand over the cookie bag, giving her something else to focus on. In her excitement she looks like a little girl and my heart twists. 

She struggles with opening the seal and tears open a hole in the top of the bag with her teeth.  
Taking out one of the cookies she devours it, goes to grab another. I make the mistake of trying to get one for myself, and nearly lose a finger in the process. I only manage to grab one before she holds the bag tight to her chest.

“C’mon, Scully! You’re not the only one here with the munchies,” I remind as she rolls her eyes, throws the bag at me. When I start chowing down, eat about three she goes to yank it back from me but I hold onto it. Until she does her little pouting face again and I hand it back while trying not to cough on my cookie as I laugh.  
“Mulder this is nice.” The look she gave him was so tender it hurts my heart.   
She still was a little too thin and her face still gaunt but there was color in her face for the first time in too long.   
I stroked her cheek, “Wanna watch a movie Scully?”   
She nodded vehemently, “Yeah! Something trippy!”   
God I love her.


End file.
